January 29: Two small wooden Easter bunnies raised their hands in greeting as I walked by. And across the street an enormous inflated snowman rocked back and forth, exuding good cheer.
January 30: I sit in my home office at my sturdy desk. It’s funny how the very same window, the very same sunshine, can feel so enlivening when the day is Saturday and the afternoon rests languidly before me, with the only question demanding my attention is whether I finish The Great Gatsby in one sitting or hand that pleasure to tomorrow.
January 31: Our first snowfall enticed the neighborhood from their homes. A slope along our paved shortcut became a right-sized hill for a toddler in his sledding bucket. A cluster of adults and children walked by with florescent-colored saucers and sleds, no two colors alike and each snow coat a different hue. Another family rolled out of a driveway with an inflatable sleigh, complete with a scrolled high back and curved front. And at dawn, our neighborhood fox trotted down the newly plowed road.
February 1: Walking down the street, a boy tossed to himself a perfectly formed snowball. Eight inches up, eight inches down. I recognized the gesture: the snow was packed in the size and bumpy perfection of a baseball. Perhaps he knows, as I do, that pitchers and catchers report in less than two weeks.
February 2: Another bleary-eyed meeting on video conference. Another halting attempt to “share a screen.” And suddenly a groundhog popped up, tall, vivid and insistent. Our host had summoned his screensaver by mistake, treating us all to Punxsutawney Phil seeing his shadow on Groundhog Day.
February 3: How I love my Nandina, enchantingly known as heavenly bamboo. Perhaps we’re lucky the berries don’t travel well to our vases. Their colors are so splendid right where they are.
February 4: I love this reflection by English author Eden Phillpotts. May I embrace it fully. “The universe is full of magical things patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper.”
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